What do you think?
Rate this book
408 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2007
There are concepts that cannot be imagined but can be named. Having received a name, they change, they flow into a different entity, and cease to correspond to the name, and then they can be given another, different name, and this process— the spellbinding process of creation— is indefinite: this is the word that names it, and this is the word that signifies. A concept as an organism, and text as the universe.
Sasha thought of life as a collection of identical days. To her, existence consisted of days, and each day seemed to run like a circular ribbon—or, better yet, a bike chain, moving evenly over the cogs. Click—another change of speed, days became a little different, but they still flowed, still repeated, and that very monotony concealed the meaning of life…
“You’ve just seen me?” Portnov sounded surprised. “You manifest entities, read highly complex informational structures, and you’ve only just seen me?”
Sasha managed a shallow nod, and then shut her eyes, trying to drive the tears back into her eyes.
“What’s the matter?” now Portnov sounded worried. “Sasha?”
“You are not human,” Sasha whispered.
“So? Neither are you.”
“But I had been human. I had been a child. I remember that. I remember being loved.”
“Does it matter to you?”
“I remember it.”